


Get a Little Crazy

by Ange_de_la_Mort



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Shiro/Keith, Galra Dick, M/M, Way too many flashbacks, Xenophilia, brief descriptions of torture, references to pop culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9163576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort
Summary: “No word of what is going to happen. Let us not forget that we might be the good guys, but we are not the nice guys.”In which Voltron is formed by the Galra, the humans are the bad guys, and Emperor Takashi Shirogane finds out the hard way he is better on the battle field than during stealth missions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For shendakweek; Day 1: Role Swap.  
> Also on [Tumblr](http://ariodat.tumblr.com/post/155269160121/get-a-little-crazy).

“You.”

It’s the only warning he gets: A rumbling sound full of anger and hatred. Then there is a giant, heavy hand on his shoulder, and before Shiro can react – except for the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing up in fear for he _knows_ this voice and he has actually hoped to never hear it again, most of all not when he is all alone without armed company –, he is being turned around. And then all he can see is a single glowing, golden eye and a relatively big fist that moves relatively quickly – far too quickly – in the direction of his face.

And then there is nothing at all except for a short moment of pain and darkness all around him.

-

_It’s one of those ideas. Those you think about for a while, but even days later cannot comfortably say whether it’s a good one or not, whether you can possibly realize it or not. It is a necessary idea. It would be for the best. Keith won’t like it. The others most likely won’t, either, but there are some things he refuses to talk to just anybody about (not because he doesn’t trust them, but because some of these things and ideas are kind of intimate and not to be shared), but with Keith, it’s different …_

_Shiro gives a small sigh and rubs his temple. It doesn’t exactly make this any easier that Keith is present. Right now. With him. His head resting on Shiro’s chest, his eyes large and thoughtful. Shiro know it will take twenty more seconds at most until Keith asks him about what’s going on. So he acts first: “We have to talk.”_

_“I can see that. You look like you have the weight of the universe on your shoulders.” Keith smiles a little about his own tiny and stupid joke, nothing more than the slightest twitch of his lips, before he becomes serious again and slowly moves to sit up. “What’s going on? What do you need me to do?”_

_A lot. Nothing. You won’t like it. “Voltron.” This ensures him Keith’s full attention, for he raises his chin a little, all tiredness disappearing out of his his eyes. “It consists of five parts and five paladins. We can’t defeat it as one.”_

_“We have defeated it before,” says Keith energetically, always taking the chance of commenting on his own and their shared strength.”We will defeat it again.“_

_"It could be easier,” Shiro says and sits up as well, illustrating his plan with hands and gestures.  
”There are five of them, all with different strengths and weaknesses, different interests to lure them into carefully laid-out traps. “We need to separate them.”_

_“Get them alone, get rid of them, get one lion at a time.”_

_“Smart boy. There’s a reason you’re my right hand.” Figuratively. Literally. Keith has done so much after Shiro lost his hand in battle (one not with the paladins, one while conquering another unsuspecting planet, a further addition to his human empire), and if Shiro hadn’t considered him as his second-in-command before, he would have definitely promoted him right then and there. It also helps that they are fucking, but that is just an added bonus._

_“Quit the flattery. Tell me your plan.”_

_So he does. He tells them about the information he has gathered about them. “Zarkon is the hardest one to get through, but we’ll think of something later. When we have the other lions and his team killed, he’s bound to show up eventually. The green one is smart, but too curious for her own good. She’s collecting otherworldly things that might get her research along. Spread some rumors about powerful artifacts, watch her come running right into your arms. The red and blue ones hate each other - get the blue one by his ego, make him ‘find’ a way to become superior.”_

_Keith nods quietly. “Doesn’t work with Sendak, though. He shares his teammate’s hatred, but he thinks himself to be the stronger one already.”_

_“Yes. But he has other weaknesses.” When Keith raises a questioning brow, Shiro chuckles to himself. “He thinks with his dick most of the time. Remember the planet we’ve been to last week to get some nutrition?”_

_“The giant tavern-slash-brothel-slash-whatever-one-calls-that-thing?”_

_“Guess who’s been reported to come over one a fortnight.”_

_“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Keith laughs and shakes his head. “Fine. He’s an animal in heat all the time. But how do we use that to our advantage?”_

_Shiro shrugs and grins. “Let’s just say it’s a good thing none of them have seen my face yet. I’m going to have lot a fun with him.”_

-

When Shiro awakens, it’s with a hurting head and the taste of blood in his mouth. A few long moments he is not sure about his whereabouts, has no idea what happened. Then he remembers. _… oh._

He wants to tentatively touch his nose in order to find out whether it is broken or not, but he finds his hands immobilized, finds them uncomfortably bound behind his back. _… oh. Again._ This whole situation is enough to change his day from 'kind of fine’ into 'worst day of the year’ in just a few moments. He cracks his eyes open and blinks at the harsh light. Then he moves his head a little to look around. He almost doesn’t dare to in fear of renewed pain, scared he might black out again. That is a thing he really cannot provoke right now – he needs all of his senses, needs to make sure his head and mind are clear.

All around him he makes out the metal walls of a shuttle, the ceiling made out of glass. The stars above him are impossible to be counted, the shuttle moves far too quickly. The shuttles with them both on board. Shiro himself and … sadly, most likely, Sendak. The red paladin. The one he’s hoped to only see him one more time in his entire life: on the very day he finally manages to catch them all, defeat and destroy them without mercy. Sendak and his extremely annoying comrades managed to steal far too much time from him and from the rest of humanity, trying – in vain – to prevent the sovereignty of the human race. The paladins failed every time. Still, Shiro knows they will only have truly won as soon as Voltron-

“Have I recently told you how much of an idiot you are?” a voice drawls, slyly and arrogantly, and Shiro flinches before keeping entirely still, holding his breath until he realizes the stranger isn’t talking to him at all. He realizes this, because Sendak snarls in anger. “No, I really mean it,” the stranger continues. “We both know you aren’t the sharpest omnitool in the shed, but that is a new low even for you.”

“ _Shut up, Haxus._ ”

But the one called Haxus doesn’t. “Do you have any idea who our new best friend and cherished guest is?”

“Haxus-”

“You know, the one in the back?”

“Look, I-”

“The one who stole your lion because you couldn’t keep it in your pants? I mean, we all know you’re not exactly picky with your bedmates, and we all had a laugh when you contacted us with your pants down and your Red stolen, that was a fun day, considering the circumstances, but-”

Sendak growls. “If you don’t get to the point _right now, I’m gonna throw you out of the airlock!_ ”

Haxus chuckles lowly. “You’ve let yourself be bested and screwed over - literally - by none other than the human Emperor. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

There is an uneasy silence between them for a few tics. Then Shiro hears Sendak sigh, a grave, tired sound. “Prorok’s gonna have a field day with that.”

“ _I_ ’m having a field _year_ with it.”

Sendak sighs again, and then it’s silent for a while. Shiro uses this newfound quiet to elaborate on his situation.

… yeah, in short, he is fucked. Having Sendak in his close proximity would have been bad enough, but with at least one other Paladin present, he can be sure they are going to take him to their ship. Most likely to either question him about the lion’s whereabouts or to gloat at him and use him as bait for his crew. Maybe both. Definitely both.

He needs to get away. Quickly. But if their shuttle is anything like the ones he has used himself, then there won’t be any kind of escape pod, no possibility of getting away at all. He should work on getting the cuffs out of the way. then he’ll be able to fight back when they land, fight them off and hijack their shuttle to get the hell away as far as he can. … yes, that sounds manageable. Shiro nods to himself and slowly wiggles onto his back, wincing as this puts pressure onto his bound wrists. His head hurts with even the slightest movement. He actually isn’t too sure that he doesn’t have a concussion, but that is a thought for later, for when he is out of here and they patch him up back on his ship.

“We’ll be there in a few,” Sendak says then (and Shiro freezes for a moment, just a few tics, but each of them is one too many, he has no time for this, he needs to … he curses silently and raises his hips to move his bound hands under his ass and then under his legs. They’re still cuffed together, but at least they are in front of his body now, at least he can move them now, can fight and defend himself a little. _So, here’s the plan_ , he thinks. _Wait until they land and come to get you, grab one of their bayards and use it against them. Good plan. Good work, Shiro._ ) “, can you check on our 'friend’? Wouldn’t do us any good if he’s choked on his own blood already.”

Haxus chuckles. Shiro can hear him shift his weight. “Try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone, all right? I’ll be back in a tic.”

“The promise with the airlock still stands.”

Shiro hears Haxus laugh at that, and he tenses. He is lying with his back to them, just a few feet away from the two pilot seats. Quickly, he scans the immediate area around him for a weapon, but to no avail. There is nothing in here, nothing except him. They don’t even have any kind of cargo to transport, so it makes one really wonder what they doing on the exact same planet Shiro was on. Was it all a coincidence? Or a bounty hunt? Where they searching for him especially? And who has given them the right directions, the clues in order to find him? What if there is a mole-

“Oh. You are awake. How unfortunate.”

Shiro tenses and waits, counts the tics until the paladin is close enough for him to strike, until Haxus puts a hand on his upper arm. It’s just then that Shiro whirls around, swinging both fists to bash Haxus’ face in.

But his head is still swimming, his movement impaired. He is too slow. Haxus smacks his hands away and bends down to grab Shiro by the hair, grinning when Shiro grunts in pain and anger. “You’re awake,” he repeats, studying Shiro’s face up close (just like Shiro studies him and his yellow eyes, his lizard grin). “You are too early for that, Your Highness. You should get back to sleep.”

“Don’t you dare-” Shiro begins, but is forcibly cut off by his head being slammed against the metal floor.

He loses consciousness (again. It should not become a habit.).

-

_In hindsight, Shiro is not actually sure whether his plan is brilliant or bullshit, but that seems to be the case with most brilliant plans. The result in the only important thing, and the result will deliver a fitting adjective for this plan later on._

_Anyway, he is here. In this … brothel. That he has only seen from the outside the last time, which means he has come to the completely wrong expectations. Most of all, he maybe should have worn way less (he has never seen such a collection of limbs and naked skin in all possible skin and fur colours). Or maybe a little more? Or maybe he should have made someone get in here who has a bit more of an idea about flirting in general. Maybe Lance. … although 'idea’ is the wrong word for Lance. 'Questionable experience’ does sound better._

_But no. It’s necessary that he is the one in here. He is the only one the paladins have not seen before, at least not directly. He has always his armor, his helmet – shimmering black metal with the silver buckles and decorations, with the sigil of their sovereignty. Lance could have been recognized. Shiro, however, can move unnoticed in the midst of these aliens like just another adventurer looking for a good time, a nice distraction between dirty sheets or in a dark corner._

_Not that he plans to do any of this. His plan is much easier – make Sendak drunk, make him tell Shiro where his lion is, get the thing and take flight. If he were to search for it, he’d be bound to find it sooner or later, but as much as he has understood the whole thing, the Alteans – or whoever created the lions – have installed some kind of artificial intelligence, some kind of bond that works as a connection between the lion and the corresponding paladin. Sober, Sendak would notice his vehicle being stolen. Drunk and/or asleep under a table? Hopefully not._

_Slowly, he opens the door to the back of the brothel – the door leading to the tavern, inviting those who still needed to overcome their inhibitions – and flinches, as smoke and fog hit his senses as well as something that is surely supposed to be music, but sounds like someone banging kitchenware together. He hesitates for a moment, scanning the room with his eyes and then sighs in relief as he recognizes Sendak, clad in his red and white and black armor that just won’t fit his purple fur. The Galra is leaning against the bar, chatting with the barkeeper, a small creature with six arms and insect wings that hum whenever he laughs about one of Sendak’s comments._

_Shiro straightens his shoulders and single-mindedly walks towards him (almost tripping over another creature with a long head and black, shining skin and a long tail, sliding backwards along the floor. Shiro apologizes hastily and the creature hisses something in a strange language that Shiro doesn’t know – he assumes it’s an insult though, especially as the creature opens its mouth, baring dozens of razor-sharp teeth as well as a … second, smaller head? With teeth? That’s snapping at him angrily? … Shiro apologizes a second time and quickly retreats in the opposite direction._

_Slowly, he’s closing in to the bar, sits on the unoccupied bar stool next to Sendak, orders a drink (Numvil. He knows it. He can stomach it. There couldn’t be anything more embarrassing right now than if he’d be the one ending up drunk underneath the table.), takes a swig and leers at Sendak from the corner of his eye._

_He tenses up a bit as he feels the glance of the one golden eye all over himself. Ah. Attention raised. That was quick._

_“What’s a human doing here?”, Sendak growls quietly, but still audible over the merciless noise of the so-called music. “Your kind isn’t exactly welcome anywhere in the galaxies.”_

_“I thought this was a neutral planet,” Shiro says and tilts his head to the side, looking up to him. “I’m here to get a drink or five. What about you, Galra? Come here often?”_

_Sendak’s eye narrows a little._

_Shiro thinks he’s nailed the situation perfectly._

_His plan is brilliant._

-

Zarkon is not easily impressed. Actually, in Sendak’s experience, Zarkon is never impressed. Which is why he isn’t surprised when Zarkon watches him hop off the shuttle with their new guest in tow (Sendak has slung him over the shoulder) with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes narrowed. “I thought you were off to get your lion back, not to bring a human whore to our ship.”

Sendak wants to say something, but Haxus is quicker: “Boss, you’re never going to believe who this is.”

“The last bedmate Sendak has chosen?”

“Yes, that as well. But-” Haxus is actually beaming right now and Sendak wants to snap his neck. “- he’s more than that. It’s Shirogane. _The_ Shirogane.”

Zarkon blinks in confusion. “What makes you so sure?”

“Pfft, everyone knows the human emperor has a metal prosthetic as a right arm. Well, almost everyone.”

Sendak groans. “Stop looking at me like this. He had his arms and hands covered. I couldn’t have known!”

He watches Haxus grin like a madman and Zarkon blink one more time. “So you really did mate with our enemy?”

“Can we just put it to rest? I didn’t know! And now I got us our very own prisoner of the human empire. Can we stop making fun of me now?”

Zarkon looks at Haxus.

Haxus looks at Zarkon.

“I need to tell Haggar.”

“Good, I’ll chat a little with Prorok.”

As they turn, Sendak simply shakes his head and yells after them: “I hate all of you and I hope a robeast feats on your innards!”

-

_He has had too much to drink, even thought he does not know how that happened. He only knows that he is feeling warm and light-headed and that he doesn’t actually might being dragged to his feet and across some floors, up some stairs into another room. One with a bed._

_He finds out that Galra don’t kiss, they lick and bite and nibble, and he actually likes it that way with Sendak’s hands gripping his dress shirt, ripping the front open (thought he is aware enough to stop him when he tries to take Shiro’s shirt and leather gloves off. “Let me keep them on,” he says and Sendak laughs at him, hot breath ghosting over his cheek and neck. “Kinky,” is all that Sendak replies), like the way Sendak shoves him onto the bed. Shiro helps him pull his shoes and pants off, because he really does need those later, and then, he is half-naked and half-hard under him._

_Sendak watches him for a few heartbeats (Shiro flushes at the scrutinizing gaze and bites down on his lower lip to stifle a needy sound) and scoffs a little, closes his good eye while taking the armor off, exposing more and more fur (Shiro has never thought he could be turned on by anything that isn’t human, but Sendak is actually kinda handsome? For a Galra?). It’s only when his hands rest on top of the breast plate and shoulder guards that Sendak stops. “I hope you aren’t easily scared.”_

_“What should I be scared of?”_

_Instead of an answer, Sendak only chuckles and removes the armor._

_Shiro’s mouth goes dry. Together with the paladin armor, Sendak loses his left arm. It’s cut off at the shoulder, a scar marring the thick purple fur. It takes him all of his willpower not to touch his own right arm, not to tell him he knows the feeling of … being like this. It sobers him up, at least for a tic or two. “Come here,” he says then, his voice hushed and breathless, and as Sendak steps closer, Shiro brushes his fingers over the scar and smiles. “You think this would scare me?”_

_“It did scare some of my bedmates away.”_

_“Why don’t you get a full prosthetic?”_

_Sendak shrugs. “I can deal with it. I wear my scars proudly. Only my mating life suffers from it. A little.”_

_Shiro feels laughter stumble over his lips. “Yeah, well, then come here and take all you didn’t get from all those squirmish idiots who’ve never seen a warrior before.”_

_Sendak chuckles and climbs onto the bed with him._

-

After he has thrown Shirogane (not Takashi, not anymore) in one of their cells, Sendak makes his way to the common room. To his misfortune, Prorok and Haxus are sitting there and laughing. He can guess who they are talking about.

And yes, as Prorok looks up and gets aware of his presence, he grins at Sendak, all teeth and malice. “I heard you were fraternizing with the enemy?”

“Is that word not a bit too big for you to use, furface?” Sendak growls and throws himself onto the sofa, stretching his legs. He ignores the grins shot in his direction, rubbing his temple in what he knows is the beginning of a headache. “What are we going to do with him?”

“You brought him here, you should have some sort of idea.”

Sendak looks up in time to see Zarkon step into the room and shrugs his shoulders. “I only thought of making him tell us where my lion is.”

Zarkon tilts his head first to one side, then to the other. “He can tell us so much more. About the Empire’s fleets, their troops. We just have to make him talk.”

“Should I have a little fun with him?” Prorok asks with a smile.

Haxus waves his hand dismissively. “Let us be real for a tic, if you have your way with him, he’ll end up as a puddle of blood and mush on the floor. You just don’t know when to stop and ask questions, you’re getting lost in the punching part.”

“I’ll do it,” Sendak says quickly. “I brought him here. He stole my possession. He made me feel like a fool.” ('Because you are one,’ he hears Prorok mutter, but chooses to ignore it.) He looks up to their leader. “How will we keep the prince from finding out?”

“If you’d been here for a change, you would know that Prince Coran and his ambassador are off the ship for a while,” Zarkon informs him. “Allura thinks she has found some traces of Altean life forms and they are off to investigate that.”

“So we have the place to ourselves.”

“Home alone,” Haxus jests “, I’ll bring the Numvil, let’s get some music running.”

Zarkon smiles a thin-lipped smile. “No word of what is going to happen. Let us not forget that we might be the good guys, but those two are the nice guys.”

-

Sendak shoves him onto a metal table and pins him down by the shoulders while the other one, Haxus, binds his limbs with leather straps.

Shiro’s finger clench into fists and he swallows hard as he stares back into their yellow eyes. “Is this the part where I ask you what you want?”

“This is the part where you tell us what we want to know before we cut you open and strangle you with your own guts,” Haxus tells him with a cheerful smile.

He only rolls his eyes and turns his head away.

Haxus shrugs. “Well, that was the nice way, he didn’t listen, let’s bruise him a little.” He taps Shiro’s cheek with a claw. “I’m sure Sendak has a lot to talk to you about, but I’d prefer if you left your little lover’s quarry out of this interrogation session. Fine with you?”

He hears Sendak growl and tenses, for he is not sure whether this visible and audible bad mood is directed at him or at his teammate. Shiro suspects both. He braces himself for the questions and the pain.

“Do you have a tracker on you?”

Shiro stays silent, which makes Haxus sigh and look to Sendak. “Look at that. I tried, I really did, to be nice one more time. Does he play along? Not at all.”

“Stop complaining and get your little computer thing.”

“It’s a tracker device to find tracking devices. Trackception, if you want.”

“Haxus, I really don’t care what you call it, just whip it out and stop being a smartass!”

The look Haxus gives Shiro is one full of faked pity. “So the sex wasn’t that good, was it? Normally he’s in a better mood after a good rut.”

“Haxus!”

Eventually, they find out that he does not only have one, but two tracking devices on his person: One in his belt buckle, which prompts Sendak to simply rip his whole belt off, and one - the one he hoped they wouldn’t fine - buried inside the wires of his prosthetic. Sendak rips his glove off and tears his shirt open, and Haxus regards his arm with prying eyes.

“Don’t you dare-” Shiro starts, but they do, as Haxus finds the small opening to the insides of his hand and arm. Shiro writhes in his bonds, trying to shake those long and scaly fingers off.

Haxus looks at him, feigning offense. “Look, if you don’t want me to find this little bug and take it out _slowly_ , I’ll have to improvise. And it’s all your fault.”

Shiro opens his mouth in protest, but all that comes over his lips is a scream of pain as Haxus grabs the bundle of wires and rips them out, all at once, making the pain explode in his nervous system and his brain and all over his body.

It is not the last time he experiences pain on this day, for now the questions start. For now Sendak has his way with him, clawing through his skin and bones until he tastes his own blood in his mouth, until the smell makes him retch, until he has no voice left to scream anymore.

_Well_ , he thinks on the brink of unconsciousness (again? Seriously?). _At least now I know my plan wasn’t brilliant at all._

-

_Shiro can taste his own blood on Sendak’s lips as he kisses him to muffle his cries of pleasure. Sendak has him split open, has him ride two of his thick fingers (Shiro laughs breathlessly because he has never thought that Galra might have retractable claws, but hey, he has never thought of having sex with one, either) until he is panting and gasping for more, fingers fisted into the fur of Sendak’s back, nails scraping across his nape._

_Sharp fangs bite down onto his shoulder, his neck, his collarbones, and Shiro answers every bite with a moan and a thrust of his hips. “Come on,” he breathes, a greedy mantra, a plea for more. “Come on, come on.”_

_And Sendak does him the favor, pulls his fingers back to replace them with the biggest dick Shiro has ever had the pleasure of feeling before. The head pushes in, slowly at first, and Sendak groans into his ear, holding his hips still to keep him from thrashing around. Slowly, carefully, Sendak fucks into him until he is filling Shiro out completely, until there is nothing left for him to give._

_They stay like this, one moment, two, three, with Sendak’s sole hand clawing at Shiro’s skin and Shiro arching his back to get closer._

_Then, finally, Sendak moves, the thick ridges of his dick mercilessly teasing Shiro’s hole and insides, always brushing over this one little spot that makes him see more stars than there are in the universe._

_They don’t last long. Both of them; Shiro is tight and hot, his own cock rubbing against the fur on Sendak’s belly like a thousand feathers caressing him at once, and Sendak is filling him out completely, occasionally bending down to nip on his skin or lick over his nipples, taking him to higher heights than he has ever been before._

_Shiro comes with a shout. Sendak is almost silent, nothing but a shaky breath announcing his own orgasm._

_They stay like this for a bit, with Sendak’s large body covering Shiro’s own, until Sendak looks at him and grins, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of Shiro’s face. “You haven’t even told me your name yet.”_

_“Is-is that a custom with your people? Why do you want to know?” He shivers, clutching onto him with a stupid, satisfied smile plastered to his own face. “We do that thing all the time without knowing each other.”_

_Sendak chuckles. “I still want to know who is the one human who will not be getting any sleep tonight.”_

_… oh. Shiro feels his face flush. “Takashi,” he says. “My name’s Takashi.”_

-

It takes a few days of them roughing him up and shoving him into the cryopod to barely heal the worst of his wounds until he talks. Or rather, until he tells them what he thinks they want to hear, a multitude of lies with barely a grain of the truth interwoven in his gasps and pained sobs (though he actually is at a point where he’d tell them everything they want to know, and he _would_ do so if there wasn’t so much at stake. Not just his life, not just the ones of Keith and Katie and the rest of his crew, but the whole of humanity).

Whenever they are done with him for a moment, whenever he is back at his tiny, dark cell, he curls up into a ball and takes shaky breaths until he manages to calm himself down by the merry thought of killing them all, of ripping their beating hearts out with his hands.

His fingers shake, the broken ones of his left hand as well as the metal ones, his metal arm jittery and unstable. He can’t use it at all, not to defend himself, not to wipe the tears and snot away. It’s useless. He is useless in here, while his crew is out there, fighting for the rest of humanity, fighting to expand the human territory.

Shiro has been fighting this fight for almost ten years. He is twenty-nine now, he is trained to deal with torture, to trust into his crew, to be able to give up on himself for the sake of the greater good.

All his training doesn’t help. He feels broken and tired. He won’t be able to do this for much longer.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to.

-

_Shiro lies in the darkness of the bed that is far too small for the both of them. The warmth of Sendak’s heavy body engulfs him, and it’s hard not to fall asleep as well, now that Sendak snores quietly, breathing against his hair. It’s hard not to feel the bitemarks on his neck prickle, the dull reminder of sharp teeth digging into his skin, not to feel filthy and filled out completely. Sendak’s seed is dripping out of him, he can feel it running down his legs._

_It’s hard not to feel satisfied for a few hours._

_Sendak’s single arm is wrapped around Shiro’s waist, encircling him completely, and in a way, that is even more confusing than the sex itself. He is comfortable, almost feels protected - a strange feeling, one he hasn’t had before, not even with Keith. With Keith, he’s the one doing the protecting, even thought they’re equals. Keith is brash and unashamed and acts before he thinks, and … this is the first time that Shiro has acted without a second thought. And it’s … good? Somehow?_

_He sighs deeply and closes his eyes for a minute. If things were different, maybe he would grow to like him, to keep him for himself, as a comrade in arms and in his bed._

_But things are the way they are, and there’s no need to cry over spilt milk, over ways the universe is strange and unfair. So Shiro simply shrugs these unwanted, conflicting feelings off, and carefully slides out underneath Sendak’s heavy form to climb out of the bed._

_Since he is still mostly dressed, he quickly puts on his pants and straightens his clothes and hair, watches back one last time to the strangely peaceful form of the Galra who has tried to kill them all so often before. He should kill him now, he knows this, just grab the nearest knife and slit his throat, but now that he has seen Sendak this exposed and vulnerable, his arm lost just like Shiro’s, his being enhanced by technology, just like he himself is, he cannot feel anything else but a strange mixture of compassion and pity for the furry creature._

_Shiro quietly slips out of the room and to the place where Sendak has drunkenly talked about taking him on a quick trip through space with the red lion._

-

“We got a signal,” Haggar says quietly into the communicator to alert the rest of the Voltron crew. “Come to the bridge at once.”

It takes them less than two minutes until all five of them are present. Zarkon has his arms crossed in front of his chest and nods into her direction- “Who”?

“The Empire.”

“Took them long enough,” Prorok mumbles and rubs the back of his neck, brushing his thick fingers over his cervicals.

“I suppose after we removed the tracker they’ve given up hope of getting us involved in an ambush. I’m sure they have tried to get in a few times, but if the Alteans got one thing right, then it’s shields and defenses.”

“Haxus, that’s two things.”

“Shut up, Prorok.”

Zarkon scoffs and pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Stop it. Both of you. Haggar,” he commands, then. “Answer the signal. Let’s see what they have to say.”

Haggar presses a button and the screen flickers to life, and with him the furious face of Kogane, the shaggy black hair partially obscuring his eyes, making him seem sinister. His mouth isn’t more than a thin line, the hatred in his eyes almost palpable.

“Paladins of Voltron,” he says, and Sendak is always surprised at how young he is, how young they all are. Nothing more but whelps without a clue about life and death. Sendak is at least five times their age, not to mention Haggar and Zarkon. Beings as young as them should not control almost all of the known universe. “I am Commander Kogane of the United Human Nation and I propose a trade.”

“The lion against your boss, right?” Zarkon says quietly and smiles, all teeth and gum. “We know what you want, boy. Make us a good offer.”

“Are your lives offer enough?” Kogane asks with a snarl. “We will exchange our respective hostages and I will guarantee you that you will be able to walk away unharmed.”

“This time, right?” Haxus quips, and Sendak shrugs in agreement.

“Yes. This time. We are in a bit of a pinch, you and us altogether. You need the red lion to form your little transformers lightshow-” ('Our little what?’ mouths Haxus and Prorok and Sendak shrug their shoulders in a seldom moment of shared confusion) “- and we want Shiro back.”

“How about you surrender and give up your plans of planet domination?”

Sendak blinks at Haggar in disbelief, and Kogane simply laughs it off. “Nice try, witch. It’s not going to happen. Give us Shiro back and you will get to live another day. This is all we propose to you.”

Zarkon is silent for a few tics, his long fingers taptaptapping on the metal of his armor. Sendak can see him reconsider a retort, can see him think this trade through. Sendak cannot blame him. The life of the human emperor against a lion. Is that worth it? Should they simply kill him and be done with it? Try to get the lion back on their own later? … but it wouldn’t be easy, without them able to form Voltron at all. Four lions against this massive fleet of ships. They wouldn’t stand a chance, as much as it pains him to admit it.

And Zarkon must think so as well, for when he opens his mouth, all he says is: “Agreed.”

Kogane nods grimly. “You will choose the coordinates for our meeting and the exchange. But I want to see him first. I want to see he’s alive.”

“You will have to trust our words.”

Kogane is silent. Raises his brows. Then, he yells over his shoulder, his face slightly out of frame: “Lance, get the cannons ready. Heavy artillery. I want this Altean heap of scraps obliterated in ten seconds.”

“Wait!” Zarkon hisses quickly (they all do, actually, as they’ve understood that the human isn’t in the mood for joking around). “Fine. Give us a moment.” He turns to Sendak and nods. “Get Shirogane.”

“Be quick about it,” Kogane adds cheerfully. “We’ve all been a little trigger-happy since you’ve taken ninety percent of our impulse control.”

Sendak grits his teeth and hurries out of the room.

-

As the door to his cell opens and the small sliver of light trickle into the room, Shirogane flinches, looks at Sendak out of tired gray eyes. “Again?” he asks with a small smile, showing his teeth. The movement splits his lower lip once more, a drop of blood runs down the corner of his mouth.

Sendak tells himself not to get distracted by that. They spent a nice night with each other. That is all. Except for that, except for these few hours, Shirogane is still a filthy bastard and should just drop dead. Preferably not this very moment, because that would mean all of them would get to die. And _that_ would be unfortunate.

“Get up,” Sendak says coldly and watches the multitude of expressions on his face: Uncertainty, defiance, arrogance.

“Make me,” he says finally and Sendak sighs.

“We don’t have time for this. One last time: Get up!” He holds a hand out for him to hold onto, waiting, wondering, satisfaction welling up in him as Shirogane, hesitantly, reaches out with his broken robot arm and let Sendak’s hand engulf his small one. Sendak drags him up and with him.

There is silence between them, as they walk across the floors, Sendak with quick steps, Shirogane partially stumbling, partially being dragged along. “You still haven’t told me,” Sendak breaks the silence after a while, after the sound of their boots echoing on the floor annoys him “, why your plan involved mating with me.”

He prepared himself for a lot of things: For Shirogane to laugh, to buss at him. But not for him to shrug with a small smile on his lips. “That wasn’t planned.”

Sendak raises a brow. “Ah.”

“I was drunk. It happened. You didn’t seem to mind.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, good. I didn’t mind, either. Now that we got this off our chests and bonded through our mutual awkwardness, will you let me go and betray your team for me or are you just going to rip my head off?”

Sendak blinks, once and twice, then chuckles. “Cute. Real cute.”

“I’ve been told I am. A few times, actually.”

“When exactly? Whenever you’re spreading your legs for half the galaxy or when you’re crying in pain and shaking in fear?”

Shirogane sighs. “You’re a dick.”

“Likewise.”

“… but it’s nice to actually talk to you for once. Without one of you beating the shit out of me.”

“… likewise.”

And that is all they have to say to each other for the rest of the way. Sendak drags him to the bridge and shoves him to the floor, where he lands on his broken hand ans yelps in pain.

“Shiro!” Kogane’s distraught voice can be heard through the communicator, and Sendak watches with a pleased smile how Kogane’s eyes widen in shock, his mouth slightly agape. Then his features grow hard again. “We’re gonna take you home, buddy.”

Shirogane cradles his hand against his chest and looks up. “Keith?” he mutters as if he can’t believe his second-in-command ('buddy?’ Hah!) to actually try to get him back. “Keith, I … ” Realization crosses his features, and he tries to scramble to his feet. “No! You can’t let them have the lion! Keith, blow this ship to pieces, that is an order! Kill them all, just _do it_!”

Sendak curses under his breath, and, before his team can react, rushes two steps forward to catch Shirogane by his metal arm. “Shut up,” he snarls and deepens his grip on the metal limb, just to make him go quiet, to make him shut his mouth for good right now before Kogane actually dares to listen.

Something snaps.

-

Shiro watches in disbelief as giant claws tear through metal and cables, pierce his skin. He stares as the crack in his right forearm, the gash that deepens by the second.

He watches it come off, blood and mechanical fluid gushing out of what is left of his arms.

For a moment, there is no pain. It comes soon enough, bursting through his nerves and skin and bones, brighter than the solar system and deeper than the depths of a black hole.

In the distance, something screams, the wail of a tortured animal. It takes Shiro a tic to understand the he is the one doing all the screaming, that the sounds come out of his own mouth.

Everything around him goes black (he really needs to stop that, it has not been funny in a while. At all).

-

The next time he awakens, he is safe, even though it takes him a while to understand, for the only thing he notices at first is the horrible pain in his arm – or at least where his arm should be. It’s almost … strange; the first time he lost this limb – flesh and bones cut through by a projectile, the rest of his forearm and hand uselessly twitching on the floor, it did not hurt this much. Maybe this is because they have upgraded him there, his strength his nervous system, his abilities.

The next time he awakens, it’s with a jolt that runs through his body. He tries to sit up, tries to shift his weight onto his elbows, but since there is nothing left on the end of his right arm, he loses his balance and falls to the side-

\- and thankfully directly against Keith’s chest. Keith stabilizes him, brushing his hand over Shiro’s scarred cheek. “Hey,” he says with a tired smile, which Shiro most likely mirrors in response. “Welcome back. Good to see you up and running, Hunk was already nagging me about waking you up so he could fix your arm.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but hesitates for a few moments, sighs deeply and exhilarated and unsatisfied (but still relieved). “How,” he starts and then clears his throat, shakes his head about how hoarse his voice sounds, how much he must’ve screamed during the last few days – weeks? - if his throat is is this raw. “How did you get me out?” he asks and Keith’s expression tells him he shouldn’t have asked. That they’ve lost – this time, at least.

“We went in for an exchange,” Keith confirms his fear.

“You shouldn’t have.”

Keith’s fingers caress his upper arm, a fingertip traces the jagged edge of the broken metal. The gesture feels odd, odd and calming at the same time. “Don’t say that.”

“The lion was important. We’ve lost too much. It wasn’t worth getting me out for it.”

“You’re wrong,” Keith says, sternly. “There are five lions. But there is only one you. What should we do without you, Shiro? Who should be the one to lead us? Lead humanity?”

“You could have … ”

“Done what? Blown you up and taken your place? Or given it to Lance? Katie and her brother? Hunk?” Keith shakes his head and looks at Shiro, looks him in the eyes. “If we’d lost you, this war would have been over.”

“Keith … ”

“No, Shiro. This isn’t just about you and me and about what we have. It’s about all of us. It’s about the human race. If you were gone for good, the army would have scattered. All we’ve achieved would have been destroyed. And who says the planets we’ve conquered wouldn’t want their revenge?”

Shiro falls silent and closes his eyes. He knows this. He knows this himself. But still it feels wrong to be here and to witness them suffer this goddamned setback. It’s not nice, it’s not right. But maybe it was time. “Maybe we’ve become too full of ourselves. Too careless.”

“Yeah. I hate to admit it, but the Voltron crew handed us our asses back.”

“We should thank them for it.”

Keith raises his eyebrows at Shiro’s tone of voice and Shiro knows his gaze is steel and his mouth is just a thin line. “You sound like you have a plan.”

Shiro slowly shakes his head and raises the fingers of his left hand to what’s left of his other arm. He presses a fingertip too the sharp-edged metal until the first drop of blood runs along his skin and the slight pain clears his thoughts. “Not a plan. Just a promise. To all of them, but especially to Sendak.”

A promise he’d make good on as soon as they’d meet again. Because now it’s personal. Now it’s a stupid, short period of affection and now he knows what he got out of that. Now it’s something he has to do to prove to himself he’s better than … certain other creatures. Stronger. Unrelenting.

“I’m going to cut his other arm off, too.”


End file.
